


Melomania

by SweetHeaven



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Jealousy, Love at First Sight, M/M, OOCness, Obsession, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-08 01:26:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18885310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetHeaven/pseuds/SweetHeaven
Summary: Izaya Orihara always thought he would never a make a mistake as stupid as falling in love. The notion of somethinglike 'love at first sight' was ridiculous to say the least.Yet there he was, walking to the same park every day and hoping against hope that sooner or later he would catch the attention of a certain street musician whose name he didn't even know.





	Melomania

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Riri1342](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riri1342/gifts).



> For Riri1342, amazing artist, awesome writer and wonderful friend. If you want to read some good Shizaya, check her work!

In the outskirts of the big city, quite far away from the neighbourhood where he lived, there was a park that Izaya Orihara really loved.

It was not especially beautiful, it didn't have exotic trees or stunning fountains. The old wood benches needed some painting, and more litter bins would be a useful addition, if the rubbish piling up in some strategic corners of the poorly-trimmed gardens was anything to go by.

The people strolling around it were not particularly appealing to Izaya, either. Salarymen crossing it quickly in their haste to get home after a hard day in the office, teenagers drinking alcohol that they had acquired illegally, passing children who didn't find the place worthy their curiosity and didn't feel inclined to explore it after school. All of them were as unremarkable as the site itself.

So why, one may wonder, was such a crappy park Izaya's favourite place in town?

Well, because it had the most interesting human Izaya had ever seen. Or, to be more precise, the most interesting _being_ Izaya had ever laid his eyes upon.

Because he wasn't sure that man was human. 

Ordinary humans didn't make him feel the things he felt when he was around that man. When he listened to that man.

Izaya remembered distinctly how he had come across that street musician who had become his obsession.

Some months before, he had met a client in a coffee shop nearby. The man had been searching for excuses to delay the payment for Izaya's service, and that had pissed off the informant.

After sorting everything out, he had decided to take a walk around the area to clear his mind.

Having to make veiled death threats against such a dim-witted client could be mentally draining, after all.

Wandering without a specific destination, he had reached what probably was the most beautiful place of the park, which _wasn't_ actually beautiful, but at least was not as ugly as the rest.

It was a big rounded area with a medium-sized fountain in the centre and flowers in the parterres.

And there, next to the fountain, surrounded by a tiny crowd but singing with the same enthusiasm as if he was performing in a packed stadium, was _him_.

_ The Man _ .

The first time Izaya had heard him, he hadn't able to walk away for half an hour, and, eventually, he had left only because the man had started to gather up his things. Apparently, it was time to go home.

But by the time the Man was gone, Izaya was already enamoured.

The funniest thing about it all was that the stranger didn't even have a _great_ voice. It was too husky for Izaya's liking. Besides, he screamed too much, and even though he didn't sing out of tune, his phrasing seemed strangely unrhythmic.

He was, undoubtedly, an inexperienced amateur.

Yet Izaya, fervent melomaniac who spent most of his hardly-earned money on records and concerts of the most prestigious artists, had felt mesmerized by his far-from-velvety voice, by the thunder in his throat, by the passion oozing from him in every sentence, by the firmness with which he held his guitar.

The first time Izaya saw him, he thought he might be some kind of god. Bathing in the light of dusk, his blond hair seemed to sparkle as if made of diamonds, and his chocolate eyes shone with a determination that completely -and unexpectedly- dragged Izaya out of his comfort zone as a mere observant.

That fateful encounter had changed Izaya's life in a way he never thought possible.

The following day, he had come back to the park hoping that the guy was a regular. He knew many street musicians used to change locations, but he had to try.

To his delight, the singer was there.

Like the previous day, his repertoire included songs from a bunch of rock bands that actually suited his way of singing and also original songs.

Unsurprisingly, it was these original songs that Izaya found more appealing. There was a striking contrast between the shyness with which he introduced the pieces as something he had written and the power of the lyrics, in which he seemed to bare his soul.

His songs talked mostly about pain, about fear, about loneliness. It was clear to Izaya that this man had suffered in the past.

Of course, that made him even more interesting in Izaya's eyes.

The Man looked tough, strong. He had a no-nonsense demeanour that gave him the air of someone you didn't want to mess with.

At the same time, however, he looked vulnerable in a way that made Izaya want to hold his big hand and tell him that everything would be alright, which was the kind of thought Izaya didn't even know he was able of having.

It was a strange contrast, Izaya thought, how someone could look able to protect anyone from the greatest dangers and, at the same time, look like someone who desperately needed protection from the miseries of life.

This Man knew what it was to get hurt. How it felt to be alone.

Izaya knew pain and loneliness too -not that he would ever admit to feeling any of those. Perhaps that was the reason why the musician's songs resonated powerfully with him.

For the first time in his life, Izaya felt the need to get involved in someone's life, not as the puppeteer he had always been, but as an equal to the other person.

Izaya didn't want to meddle with the Man's life.

He wanted to be a part of it.

Izaya wanted, _needed_ to interact with that Man, to talk to him. He desperately wanted him to acknowledge his existence in any way, shape or form.

He wasn't planning on starting a conversation with him for the moment, but he hoped that the Man would at least notice his presence in the crowd. That was enough, at least for the time being.

That hope made his heart beat like that of a blushing maiden when looking at her knight in shining armour, and it grew with each passing day for weeks.

Izaya wanted that man so badly and he wasn't ashamed of it. But, at the same time, he hated his own yearning.

Izaya had never believed he could be attracted to a man.

He had never believed he could be attracted to any person, period.

He had 'physiological needs,' so to say, but he had always taken care of them without worrying about whether he really felt any kind of desire for the person he was with each time.

Izaya thought himself above humans. Such a petty feeling as longing or, worse, love, was something he considered himself immune to.

Yet there was no other way to describe what he was experiencing. His infatuation was so intense that he had been dreaming of that man day in, day out for a whole month.

Izaya remembered the first dream as if he had had it the previous night because it had shaken him to the core. It had been the first sign that his obsession for that singer was not the detached fascination he felt for the rest of the people.

His body still trembled with the mere memory.

_ They are in the park and the Man is surrounded by a small group of people, but he doesn't pay any attention to them. _

_ He only has eyes for Izaya. _

_ The Man pushes away the crowd and holds Izaya's hand, and with a deep voice, he commands: "Come with me." _

_ Izaya _ _ just lets himself be guided towards a park bench which looks way more comfortable than the ones in real life. _

_ The Man sits on the bench, but when Izaya makes a move to sit next to him, he shakes his head. _

_ Spreading his legs, he gently leads Izaya to kneel between them. _

_ Izaya _ _ happily complies, setting himself between the Man's tights and licking his lips. _

_ The Man unzips his black trousers and leans back, fixing his brown eyes on Izaya. _

_ "You know what you have to do," he says in that husky voice that sends shivers down Izaya's spine. _

_ Izaya _ _ tentatively puts his hand into the man's trousers, releasing his dick from its fabric confinement. _

_ The Man is not hard yet, so Izaya is able to fit all of him in his mouth. _

_ The skin is soft and warm, and Izaya lets the point of his tongue play with the slit. _

_ The Man moans and grabs Izaya's hair. He gets hard fast and Izaya shudders at the feeling of the Man growing inside his mouth. _

_ He encloses the base of the Man's cock with his nimble fingers and starts to pump it slightly, accompanying the up-and-down movement of his hand with a meticulous suction of the Man's foreskin. _

_ The Man groans and it reverberates through his whole body. _

_ Izaya _ _ uses his free hand to massage the Man's balls while he licks and nibbles his shaft as if it was a popsicle. _

_ The Man grabs his head roughly, forcing him to bob it up and down his length. _

_ He is huge, and the point of his dick keeps reaching the back of Izaya's throat with every thrust. _

_ His breathing becomes erratic and soon, his body spasms and a hot, thick squirt fills Izaya's mouth. _

_ The Man leans forward and whispers in Izaya's ear: "Swallow it." _

_ Izaya _ _ would have done it even if the Man hadn't told him to, anyway. _

_ He's just been dominated and mouth-fucked by the only person he has really desired in his life, and he wouldn't want a single part of that encounter to go to waste. _

When the alarm clock beeped on his nightstand stand, Izaya woke up with his pants so damp that, for a second, he thought he might have peed himself.

.

.

Izaya walked with a smile on his face as he approached his favourite corner in the park. The previous night, he had had another wonderful dream with the Man as a special guest and he couldn't wait to see him in person.

Not that he was going to do anything except watching, of course, but even just that _felt so good_.

Izaya took his usual spot to have a perfect view of the Man. He looked particularly attractive that day, with a black jacket over a red shirt and tight leather trousers.

His skillful fingers moved with ease across the neck of his guitar while he pressed its body against his chest and caressed its strings.

Izaya gulped. Was it even possible to be jealous of a damn instrument? He had never thought so until that moment.

The Man must have been performing for a while when Izaya arrived because he could only hear a couple of songs before the singer took a break.

That was nothing out of the ordinary since he usually stopped for around ten minutes to rest and drink some water.

What was out of the ordinary, however, was the blonde woman who approached the Man with a purple can, one of those drinks you could get from a vending machine.

Izaya thought he had never seen her before in the crowd, but he couldn't be sure. Apart from having a nice body, she was pretty unremarkable. Completely uninteresting.

In any case, it didn't really matter if Izaya knew her or not. What really mattered was that _the singer_ knew her. And, apparently, quite well at that.

Izaya could see his perfect, sinful lips forming the word 'thanks' when she offered him the drink, and the smile he gave her when he took it could have melted the fucking poles.

Izaya frowned. Who was that woman and what did she have to do with his Man?

To add insult to injury, the woman touched the Man's arm lightly with one hand while she pushed her hair behind her ear with the other in what appeared to be an attempt at being flirty.

And she was blushing. _And so was the Man_.

Izaya felt his blood boiling. He turned around and left the place as fast as he could.

_ 'Stupid! Stupid!' _ he berated himself _. 'Of course, someone like him would have a girlfriend! What did you expect? You idiot...'_

That was the reason why he didn't like feeling... things.

He left the park swearing that it would be the last time he would set a foot in there.

Three days later, he came back.

.

.

Izaya was mad at himself. He knew he shouldn't get back to that place. He shouldn't get back to that Man.

And when he woke up in the morning -after another one of those dreams- he was hell-bent on avoiding that place at any cost.

Yet in the evening he had found himself walking the usual path towards the shabby fountain and he couldn't explain why in a rational way.

He knew there was a reason why he had stopped listening to his heart many years before: it was too good at making him act like a fool.

When he reached his destination, the Man was already there.

_ 'And why wouldn't he?' _ Izaya thought bitterly. It was not as if the Man was going to notice Izaya's absence and cancel his performances because of it.

There was a fairly big crowd that day, probably because it was Saturday and because the warm weather felt so inviting.

Izaya spotted a long, blond mane in the first row, and he decided to stay in the last one.

The Man was singing a song Izaya had never heard before, and even though he had convinced himself that he wasn't that interested in the musician anymore, he couldn't help but cursing his luck because he had missed the introduction.

The song was good, and the lyrics, which talked about pushing away the people you loved because you were scared of hurting them, were powerful and made Izaya's skin tingle.

It was probably one of the best original songs Izaya had heard from him.

However, the sight of the blonde woman clapping enthusiastically when the singer finished made him hate the track immediately.

It was something completely irrational, he knew it, but if the woman loved the song, then he could do nothing but despise it.

The fact that the Man seemed to be blushing because of the woman's response didn't help at all.

Izaya was seeing red.

A sudden urge to hurt the Man took over him.

Before he could really think it through, he cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, sir, but, do you really call that 'art'?" he asked with a cruel smirk.

All the people gathered to enjoy the show turned their heads to him.

The singer, however, didn't bother to look at him and remained silent. He started to adjust the tuning pegs of his guitar.

"Ah, I see you're deaf," Izaya said. "Well, that explains a lot," he tapped his chin overdramatically, pretending to think.

Again, the Man didn't say anything, but Izaya noticed he was clenching his jaw.

Izaya was happy to be getting some sort of reaction, but the fact that the guy wasn't even making eye contact irked him to no end.

He was opening his mouth to attack again, but before he could utter a word, someone stopped him.

"Hey, dude," a guy with dreadlocks that Izaya had seen around the neighbourhood a couple of times was looking at him with cold eyes. "None is forcing you to stay here. If you don't like what he does, just leave."

Izaya smirked again. If that dude was looking for an argument, Izaya could give him a run for his money if he so wanted.

But when he saw the way the singer was looking at his defender, with such a genuinely grateful smile, he felt his own grin faltering.

"Well," he finally said, forcing himself to smile again, "I'm free to express an opinion, but you're right. None is forcing me to stay and listen to this shit," he kept his voice perfectly flat, as if by calling the Man's music 'shit' he was stating a fact instead of throwing a tantrum because he was jealous.

He turned around and walked away, feeling the Man's glare on his back all the way down the path.

This time, he managed to stay away from him for a whole month.

.

.

Izaya knew he was acting like a fool again, but what else he could do?

Now that he couldn't see the Man, his dreams of him were becoming more vivid than ever - and what was worse, Namie had caught him spacing out and had scolded him for neglecting his work.

Somehow, his mind had short-circuited. He felt as if he had turned into a totally different person.

As if a part of him had somehow disappeared, vanished into thin air.

That fucking Man, with his captivating voice and his divine looks and his no-shit attitude and his awkward and totally unexpected sensitivity, had had the audacity of stealing Izaya's heart.

And even though Izaya wasn't really planning on using it, he wanted his heart back.

Or if he couldn't have it back, at least he wanted to be near it, to feel it again, which meant he had to see the Man again, as he was its new owner.

It sounded crazy, but Izaya didn't care. It was not the first time that he questioned his own sanity, anyway.

The Man was in his usual spot, looking as handsome as ever with his white shirt and his black vest and a bow tie that made him look like a sexy waiter, and, much to Izaya's chagrin, he was surrounded by an audience in which there seemed to be more female fans than the last time Izaya had been there.

The thought that the Man could very well become an idol and leave the park for the world stage crossed Izaya's mind, and he wished that all those girls just disappeared and stopped attracting the attention of record labels to the Man.

The blonde woman, however, was nowhere to be seen, and he felt slightly relieved.

The Man finished the song he was performing, some old classic rock song, and after bowing gratefully before the clapping crowd, he looked around as if he was looking for someone.

His eyes locked on Izaya's, and what seemed the ghost of a smile danced on his lips before he opened a bottle of water and took a long sip from it.

There was something dangerous, predatory, in the way the corner of his mouth had curled upwards, and Izaya wondered if perhaps he had made a mistake by provoking the Man's rage with his presence.

It might be wiser to retreat for now while the Man took his break, and come back again the following day to watch him from a spot where he couldn't be seen, drowning in his pathetic one-sided obsession.

He was turning around when the Man's voice boomed on the microphone.

"I would like to play a new song today," he said quickly, "if you want to hear it, that is," he added in a lower voice.

Izaya had to wonder if he was talking to someone specific, as it was the first time he said such a thing when introducing a new song.

When he looked in the Man's direction, his brown eyes were fixed on him.

Izaya gulped and lowered his gaze, overwhelmed by the intensity of the Man's fierce stare.

He didn't walk away, though, and he heard the Man sigh. Was that a sigh of relief?

"This song is called 'Red-eyed stranger' and I've been working on it for quite some time. I hope you like it," he finished, a soft pink tinging his cheeks.

The Man closed his eyes and started to play. It was a pleasant riff and he performed it in a very skillful way.

Then, he started to sing.

__

_ A red-eye stranger came to me, _

_ shook _ _ my world without saying a thing. _

_ Just a glance was all it took _

_ to _ _ make me fall like a fool. _

__

_ The red-eyed stranger stares at me. _

_ He doesn't open his mouth, _

_ but _ _ he speaks to my soul _

_ and _ _ sees through all my walls. _

__

_ I had been dreaming of hearing his voice, _

_ but _ _ when he finally spoke, it hurt _

_ his _ _ words cut like a switchblade. _

_ Does he really hate me so? _

Izaya was completely entranced by the song. The slow, powerful melody spoke of longing and despair, and the way the Man's full lips caressed every word he sang set Izaya's whole being on fire.

__

_ The red-eyed stranger disappeared, _

_ darkness _ _ came back to my world _

_ and _ _ like I have always feared _

_ I feel again all alone _

__

_ His absence cuts like a sword, _

_ but _ _ the memory of his lips _

_ keeps _ _ me wondering if his tongue _

_ tastes _ _ as bitter as his words. _

__

_ I had been dreaming of hearing his voice, _

_ but _ _ when he finally spoke, it hurt _

_ his _ _ words cut like a switchblade. _

_ Does he really hate me so? _

The melody started to fade as the Man's eyes searched Izaya's.

The singer couldn't have been more obvious, his brown eyes piercing Izaya and conveying a clear message. Izaya had to make an effort to stop his jaw from dropping.

People were clapping and cheering around them, but Izaya couldn't hear anything but the wild beating of his own heart.

He didn't dare to move an inch, scared of breaking the spell.

The Man was the first to look away, gritting his teeth, apparently angry.

Izaya wondered if he should have actually done something. Or at least _say_ something.

It might have been nice if he had clapped to show some appreciation for the song.

The Man was probably expecting some reaction on Izaya's part and was disappointed that he hadn't moved a muscle.

But what could Izaya do, really? He couldn't just go there and grab the Man's collar and kiss him as he had always-

Or… could he?

The Man had started to sing again and was clearly making an effort to avoid looking Izaya's way, which actually made it easier for Izaya to muster the courage to get to him.

He stopped right next to the Man, hearing some murmurs in the crowd.

The Man stopped and looked at him, confusion written all over his face.

Izaya smirked, grabbed the Man's bow tie -and damn, he looked hot in his waiter-like outfit- and crashed their mouths together.

He heard gasps and squeals, and when the Man brought his calloused hand to his cheek, he even heard some wolf whistles.

Slowly, his tongue traced the Man's lips, demanding to be welcomed in the other's mouth.

He almost yelped in surprise when the Man bit his tongue playfully.

Somehow, Izaya had the impression that the singer was pretty inexperienced, yet it was the best kiss he had ever had.

Reluctantly, he moved away from the inviting mouth and held the Man's gaze.

"I hope it was not too bitter," he teased, raising an eyebrow.

Before the Man could say anything, Izaya walked away, fighting the urge to break into a run.

.

.

Izaya went back to the park the following day without knowing very well what he was going to do.

He had spent the whole night thinking what changes his life would experience if he continued whatever it was he had started with the Man.

He found that, in spite of his over-analytical mind and his love for planning everything considering every possible outcome, _he didn't care at all_.

When he approached the fountain, he was surprised to see that there was no crowd. 

There was no microphone, no guitar case.

None of the things a street musician would use.

But the Man was there, sitting on the edge of the fountain as if he was waiting for someone.

He was waiting for him.

Izaya walked to the Man and cleared his throat.

"Hello, stranger," the Man said, sliding his sunglasses down his nose, his eyes smiling.

It was clear he was trying to sound like a tease, but he seemed too tense. Obviously, he was not the flirty type.

"You're not playing today?" Izaya asked as a greeting.

"What do you care, flea? You hate my music," the Man shrugged.

Izaya chuckled. He certainly deserved such a comeback.

He sat next to the Man, who was fiddling with the hem of his jacket.

"How did you know that I would come?" Izaya finally asked after a couple of minutes in silence.

"You have been coming almost every day for months," the Man said. He could have said it in a teasing tone to embarrass Izaya, but he didn't.

"I didn't come for a month," Izaya pointed out to keep at least some dignity.

"I know. And before that, you didn't come for three days," the Man said so nonchalantly that for a moment Izaya missed the meaning of what he had just said.

When the words finally sunk in, he looked at the man with wide eyes.

"Yo\- you noticed?" he stuttered. Had he ever stuttered before? He didn't think so.

"I did," the Man smiled.

"But, why?" Izaya asked, genuinely curious.

"That's… difficult to explain," the Man started. "The way you looked at me, your face when you heard my songs… I had a feeling that you understood. A feeling that you really got what I meant. For most people, the lyrics were not that deep. Not that I intended for them to be obvious, but… you just seemed to see right through them. You saw the real me, I could feel it…" he fidgeted, clearly understanding that what he had just said might sound really strange.

"Relax, I don't think you're a weirdo or anything," Izaya said, trying to reassure him in his insensitive Izaya way. 

The Man looked at him with wide eyes. Izaya couldn't be sure if it was because he wasn't worried about looking like a weirdo _before_ but now he was or because he was surprised that Izaya had easily understood the source of his discomfort.

He didn't want the Man to feel more embarrassed than he already was.

"So, you had seen me around," he said, trying to redirect the conversation.

"I noticed you right from the beginning, I just thought you would freak out if I suddenly approached you," the Man explained, rubbing his neck.

"Why would I? Because we're both guys?" Izaya asked again. That would be a very acceptable reason, after all.

"Because I'm not normal," the Man said looking intently into Izaya's eyes.

Izaya could only smile at that. It was _so clear_ for him that it was their fate to meet, and it was time to embrace it.

"Well, that's great because I hate normal. You'll find I'm far from normal myself. But we'll have plenty of time to discuss it, anyway," he said, standing up and stretching out his hand.

"Hello, my name is Izaya Orihara."

"Hello," the Man said strongly shaking Izaya's hand. "My name is Shizuo Heiwajima.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Riri, I hope you like it and I'm sorry it's a bit delayed.  
> I don't have a beta and English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes I've made.  
> Also, sorry about the OOCness, it's actually difficult for me to write light Shizaya with a happy ending while keeping them IC, but I tried my best! lol  
> Thanks to the lovely Eleen for her advise about rating


End file.
